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Now I understand what the most difficult thing is… Do you know what’s the most difficult? The most difficult thing is returning home. Returning to your life, continuing as if nothing happened. As if the feelings never existed—as if they belonged to different worlds. Never to see. Never to hear. That’s the most difficult thing.
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The time has come—you always knew it would. Whatever paths you wandered, whatever choices you made, there is one truth. You cannot outrun the inevitable. You cannot escape me. I am constant. Eternal. Every choice you make, every fleeting feeling anchored deep within you—none of it holds a sway. For the strings are mine to
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Fate, you pull the strings, create ripples in waves, and unleash cascading effects that breed uncertainty. You control timeless currents and the converging actions that alter our path. What are your plans, Fate? This timing of yours is no mere coincidence. The relentless march of events, it’s devouring the burning ember—choking out the burning flames.
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For the future we always wanted and dream of, may it shine as brightly and hopefully as your eyes. The eyes that see past my mask, the eyes that pierce the depths of my heart. The one that makes me vulnerable, willing to sacrifice everything. The path that we both desperately seek, may it converge
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Life is a cycle—opportunities and challenges; problems and solutions. Fleeting reliefs and mounting trials. Just when you think you can finally breathe, that’s when hope betrays you… In an instant, the things you hoped for—close to the touch—recede deeper into the thick forayed forest. Tangled in the shadows, facing no options but to proceed further—believing
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The seeds planted long ago, Thoughts that linger deep after dark… An Unforgettable desire to taste, Now the uncertainty must finally bear fruit. The flowers rose and blossomed In the darkest corners of the world. The sapling grew and bloomed, Now take a bite out of the forbidden fruit. The witch dances with the fruit,
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This one is for all of us— The ones that yearn, The ones who reach but never quite win. The ones that live behind a shattered mask, Held together by the silent cries of the lonely nights… For those of us that face the fierce cold but just don’t succumb to the evil night, Those
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Distant on the horizon, way above the stars Across the galaxy and the unknown universe… A world of our dream may still yet exist, Living the life that we yearned for, daring yet to dream… What if the strings of fate had woven differently, And our dreams remained whole—unbroken by fate? A path that never
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I will be gone—forgotten from history, lost to the whispers in the wind. I will not be remembered. Nothing of significance contributed to the world or to our society… A life seen as a waste; mistakes made but lessons not learned. I am probably not alone on these thoughts, many see their life as compounding
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Fading Waves 